


Searching for Answers

by HollowPixie



Series: Happy (Convoluted) Family [2]
Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Autistic Martin, Canon Autistic Character, Douglas is a good fatherrrrr, IDK which to class it as TBH, MJN Air Is A Family, Shutdowns, family au, meltdowns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:22:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28292331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HollowPixie/pseuds/HollowPixie
Summary: "Martin had always been different. It was no secret to anyone in the family, and never had been."This is the story of how Martin came to be diagnosed as autistic.
Series: Happy (Convoluted) Family [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2069223
Comments: 3
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

Martin had always been different. It was no secret to anyone in the family, and never had been.  
He was late in talking, as a toddler, to the point where Douglas and Carolyn were growing worried, and even took him to the doctor, where they were told there was absolutely nothing wrong with him, and, indeed, that doctor was right. Just a few days later, Martin started speaking in full sentences.  
When he was 4, after school, he came home to Douglas’ house at the time, announcing that he’d learned about planes. No, not from his teacher, from a book. His teacher couldn’t answer half of his questions, so who better to ask than Douglas? After all, he knew everything, could do anything, and best of all, he was a pilot!  
He sat down at the kitchen table, as Douglas fed baby Pixie, and said, “Dad… I have an important question.”  
“Oh? Do go on.”  
“How do planes fly?” Martin asked, staring up at his father.  
To say Douglas was startled would be an understatement, but he didn’t hesitate to give him a simplified explanation of it, fit for a 4-year-old, and Martin stared, enraptured. He asked plenty of questions about it, some of which caught even Douglas off-guard, but he patiently answered every single one. Martin tailed him all evening, asking any and every question about planes that popped into his head, not even stopping when Douglas tucked him into bed for the night. He was practically bouncing up at down, his brain going a mile a minute, and his mouth following.  
“Martin.” Douglas interrupted, chuckling. “Don’t you think that’s enough questions for one night? I can barely keep up.”  
Martin stared down at his bedsheets, dejected, until Douglas said, “You can ask me more tomorrow. That’s a promise, and have I ever broken a promise?”  
Martin shook his head. “No…”  
“Then, why do you still look so disappointed?” asked Douglas, carding a hand through Martin’s hair.  
After a moment, Martin mumbled, “Am I annoying?”  
“What? Who told you that?” Douglas questioned, as he sat on the end of Martin’s bed.  
“People at school. They said I’m annoying, and… Weird.” Martin explained, on the verge of tears.  
Douglas sighed, and moved his hand to Martin’s hair once more. “Well, they’re idiots, Martin. Don’t listen to them. But… I wouldn’t call them idiots to their faces, if I were you."  
“I won’t.” promised Martin.  
“Good, good. Now, ready for me to put the lights out?”  
“Yes, Dad. Will you, er—”  
“Yes, I’ll leave the lamp on.” Douglas assured.  
Martin stared, amazed. “You do know everything… Are you magic?”  
“That’s for me to know.” teased Douglas, as he put the lamp on, and the lights off.

That, overall, was what Martin’s good days were like. The other days were a different story. When Martin had a bad day, it was incredibly so, and worrying for all the family. The world would get too overwhelming, and Martin would get eerily quiet, and either hide, or just sit on the floor, and cover his ears, when he was at home. In public, he would hide behind Douglas or Carolyn, sometimes bury himself in Douglas’ coat. They didn’t claim to understand why Martin was the way he was, but they’d do whatever it took to help him. At Carolyn’s house, Martin was blessed with the perfect hiding place, away from everything. A walk-in wardrobe. He’d shut himself in there, and curl up in a corner, blocking out all sight, and even the slightest sound. When Douglas moved back in, with the girls, he’d often be joined by Verity, who’d sit next to him, in silence, and hand him an earphone. She controlled what they listened to, but Martin could decide when it played. Verity would stop it the second she was asked to. Martin couldn’t always talk, but they found ways. It became almost routine for them. 

The worst of Martin’s bad days came when he was 6. School was a loud, overwhelming place, and Martin couldn’t stand it, that day. Still, he managed to keep going, somehow, because he didn’t see what other choice he had.  
He was silent for the car ride home, and vaguely aware of Carolyn’s eyes on him. She seemed to be devoting her time to keeping Arthur quiet. Martin didn’t realise at the time that she was doing it for his sake.  
The space next to him seemed too empty. It was one of those rare days where Verity was with her mother. She seemed reluctant to miss school, but the opportunity was too rare to pass up. Carolyn and Douglas weren’t thrilled about it, Martin could tell, but Verity seemed happy, so Martin was happy for her.  
When he finally got home, he shut himself in the wardrobe, as per usual, and brought his knees up to his chest, rocking back and forth, with his hands over his ears. Soon, he heard a deep voice softly calling his name. “Martin, are you in there?”  
Martin couldn’t seem to respond through his sobs.  
“Martin… I just want to see you, will you open the door?”  
No response.  
“Then, can I?”  
Again, Martin said nothing, despite desperately wanting to.  
“Alright, knock once for yes, and twice for no.”  
Martin knocked, just once. After a pause, Douglas opened the door, and squeezed into the wardrobe. It wasn’t quite so easy for him as it was for Verity, but it was pretty big, as far as wardrobes go, so he managed.  
“Martin? What on Earth’s the matter?” he asked, as he knelt in front of Martin.  
Martin simply shrugged, his words catching in his throat.  
“Are you injured? Ill? Do you miss Verity?”  
Martin clutched his head, frustratedly, just wishing he could say one single word.  
“Just one of those days, is it? Martin, it’s alright. You’re alright.” Douglas murmured, without a clue what else to do. “Can I… Hug you, or something?”  
Martin hastily shook his head.  
“Alright… Alright, I won’t.” assured Douglas. “Would you like me to stay?”  
After a moment, Martin nodded, emphatically.  
“Then, I will. I’ll be right here.” Douglas promised, holding his hand out to Martin, who grasped it tightly, as if it was stopping him from falling. Douglas couldn’t help but give a small smile, murmuring repetitive reassurances, as he stroked the back of Martin’s hand with his thumb.  
Eventually, Martin’s cries stopped, and he leaned his head on his father’s shoulder, exhausted.  
“Feel better?” Douglas checked, as he carded a hand through Martin’s hair.  
“Yeah… Think so.”  
“Do you want to tell me what happened?”  
“Nothing happened, school’s just… Loud. Dad, what’s wrong with me?”  
“There is nothing wrong with you, Martin. You’re—”  
“Different, I know.” Martin sighed. “But, why?”  
“That’s a good question, captain.”  
“I do try to be… Normal, I think.”  
Douglas frowned. “You don’t have to. You’re fine as you are, and I’ll say it as many times as it takes.”  
“It makes things easier. But… I try so hard, and I’m just tired, all the time!” Martin whined, into Douglas’ shirt.  
“I see… Look, why don’t I find you a book about planes to read, while I go and talk to your mother, and put dinner on?”  
Martin sat up, alarmed. “Why do you need to talk to Mum? Am I in trouble?”  
“Oh, heavens, no, far from it. We just need to work out how to help you.” Douglas told him.  
“Really?”  
“Yes, Martin, really. Is that alright with you?”  
“Yes, Dad.”  
“Good. You know where I am if you need me.”  
“You’re… Here.”  
“Well, yes, I grant you that. You know where I will be. Satisfied, captain?”  
Martin nodded, grinning, so Douglas went back downstairs.  
Carolyn glanced up, as he entered the sitting room. “How is he?”  
“Much better, now, but I’ve never seen him so bad…” Douglas sighed, as he sank to the sofa. “Where are the others?”  
“Playing, in Arthur’s room. I’ve told them Martin’s not to be disturbed. Coffee?”  
“No, not just now.”  
“Damn. I’ll have to make it myself, then.”  
Douglas chuckled, in spite of himself. “I’ll make it, I have to start the dinner anyway… What are we going to do about Martin?”  
“How do you mean?” Carolyn questioned, almost defensively.  
“He’s been having a worse time of it, lately, as far as I can tell, and I don’t like to see him suffering. Surely there’s a reason why he’s… Different. He’s wondering it himself. Do you think he should see someone?” wondered Douglas, his brow creased with concern.  
“If you think it would help, I’m certainly not going to argue. I want what’s best for Martin, the same as you do.”  
“I do… I’ll—”  
Suddenly, a horrifying thought occurred to Douglas. “You don’t think it’s all the divorces, do you?”  
“No, Douglas, though I can’t imagine they help matters much. Martin’s always been the same. It’s nothing we did, or didn’t do, it’s simply the way he is.” Carolyn assured him.  
Douglas nodded, suitably reassured. “Right. I’ll make him a doctor’s appointment. I’ll take him, I don’t have any flights for a few days.”  
“Good. Now, where, pray tell, is my coffee?”  
“You’re impossible.”  
“Thank you.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martin has his appointment, and worries, but, luckily, his family are always there for him.

When Douglas looked into Martin’s room in the morning, he found him sitting on his bed, humming to himself, his knee bouncing in time to whatever song it was, as he read one of his ever-growing collection of books about planes. He almost didn’t want to disturb him.  
However, he was soon spotted, when Martin looked up. “Dad?”  
“Morning.” Douglas greeted. “If it’s alright with you, we’d like a quick chat with you, downstairs.  
Martin eyed Douglas, warily, but made his way to the sitting room, regardless, where he was met by Carolyn. “Hello, Martin. Do sit down.”  
“What’s this about?” Martin asked, before he did so.  
“Martin, relax.” Douglas told him, more amused than he should be. “You’re not in trouble.”  
“So, it’s not about the crumbs on my floor? Because, that was Arthur, he was eating crisps in my room, and you know what he’s like—”  
“No, it’s not about that. Do you remember what we were talking about yesterday?”  
Martin frowned. “Well, we talked about a lot of things, yesterday… In the car on the way to school, we were all talking about whether plants have feelings, and then we talked about planes— Or, well, I talked about planes. And, then—”  
“Later than that. Do you remember what we talked about after school?” Douglas asked.  
“In the wardrobe? Er, yes.”  
“You wanted answers, didn’t you? So, we’ve made you a doctor’s appointment for tomorrow.”  
“I’m not ill!”  
“Of course not.” Douglas placated. “We go to the GP first, but, after that, you’ll probably be sent to a different kind of doctor, alright?”  
Martin nodded, hesitantly. “Alright…”  
“It may take some time, Martin,” Carolyn put in. “But, if this is what you want, then we will fight for it, tooth and nail. Is it?”  
“I… Don’t know.” mumbled Martin, pulling at a loose thread on the hem of his pyjama top, until Carolyn took his hand.  
“It’s entirely up to you, dear heart. If you decide not to, then we won’t go. Then, if you change your mind, we can try it again. We can go round in circles like a merry-go-round, until you’re absolutely sure you’re ready.”  
Martin grinned, apparently satisfied. “Alright… I’ll go tomorrow. I do want answers.”  
“You sure?” Douglas checked, carding a hand through Martin’s unbrushed hair.  
Martin nodded, and looked Douglas not quite in the eyes. Closer to his forehead if anything. “I’m sure, Dad.”  
“Good. Well, then, it’s settled. Go and get dressed, and run a brush through that hair, for goodness sake.” Carolyn ordered.  
Martin got up, and started to leave.  
“Oh, and, Martin?” Douglas called after him, making him turn back. “We’re proud of you.”  
Martin made his way upstairs, with a spring in his step.  


Martin’s appointment soon came and went. The doctor tended to talk to Douglas more than Martin, and Martin found himself too nervous to pay attention anyway. He simply fidgeted in his seat, and occasionally looked to his father for reassurance, which he gladly provided.  
On the way out, Martin asked, “What did he say?”  
“Weren’t you listening?” Douglas teased. “Oh, nothing of much importance yet, don’t worry. Like I said yesterday, they’re going to send you to another doctor.”  
“Can you tell the future, Dad?”  
Douglas gave an enigmatic wink, and ruffled Martin’s hair. Martin stared in wonder, with a whisper of, “I knew it.”  
Martin was put on a waiting list, and the waiting part was agonising. He’d spend hours on end pacing the floor each day, until Verity would pull him to the couch, and distract him with the earphones. Sometimes he’d put music on, sometimes he’d just fidget with the cable. His parents didn’t seem to be in a much better state that he was, though they made an effort to hide it from him.  


One night, Martin couldn’t sleep, his head swimming with half-coherent irrational thoughts. If he was dying, his parents would have mentioned, surely… And, you can’t die of ‘being a bit different’… Can you?  
Eventually, he sighed, and tiptoed down to the sitting room, though he forgot about the creaky last stair.  
“Someone there?”  
Martin gasped, and stayed as still as he possibly could. He wasn’t meant to be out of bed.  
“Martin, I know it’s you. Come here.”  
Of course Douglas realised, he was magical…  
Martin shuffled into the sitting room, and found Douglas on his laptop. The latter glanced up, and patted the space next to him on the sofa. “Sit yourself down.”  
Martin did so, and let his head rest on Douglas’ shoulder. “What are you looking at?”  
“Something the doctor mentioned. Once we know for certain, someone will explain it to you better that I ever could. I don’t know where to start. That’s why I’m here.”  
“You don’t know how to explain? I must be dying…” Martin mumbled, resigning himself to his fate.  
Douglas turned, confused. “What? Why would you be dying?”  
Martin shrugged. “Don’t know. Just am.”  
“Oh, Martin…” Douglas sighed, chuckling. “Goodness, no. You’re not dying. You know I’d never allow it. Look, all it is is that you might be autistic. Heard of that?”  
Martin shook his head, staring up at his father.  
“It means that that brilliant brain of yours works a bit differently, basically. It’s what we already know, but with a name.”  
Martin’s eyes lit up. “There’s a name for it…”  
“Yes, there is. So, you’re going to… Let’s call it a brain doctor, just to confirm all of this. They’ll tell you much more. I should have told you all of this sooner, but I didn’t know enough about it myself, and I thought ‘what if the doctor was wrong?’ But, I’ve done some more research, and… It all makes sense. We’ve got our answers, Martin.”  
Sure enough, a month or so later, their suspicions were confirmed. This time, Martin listened to the doctor. There was a name for it… He was autistic, and he couldn’t have been happier about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, hope you enjoyed! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! <3  
> As an autistic person, autistic Martin is very close to my heart, and I wanted to do it justice, despite remembering none of my own diagnostic process.


End file.
